She Filched My Heart
by FemmeDraconis
Summary: You are cordially invited to the joyous union of Argus B. Filch and Hera M. Norris. And you'd better come or else!rnrnMadness, cat jokes, and ships abound when Hogwarts alums are, er, coerced into watcing as Filch finally ties the knot!


Author's Notes: This is dedicated to my good friend Kat who has suffered the pain of every Cat Euphemism ever thought up. May you live long and prosper. This is also to my hilarious beta, Tristan2. Thank you!

_She Filched My Heart

* * *

_

The crowd that trudged into the reception hall was not a gay one by any means.

Actually, they seemed almost shell shocked.

But who wouldn't be, if they had just seen a neurotic caretaker with questionable beliefs on corporal punishment, wed a diseased cat that seemed to have a taste for human pain?

Argus Filch smiled broadly, the gaps between his graying gums gaping at everyone in the room. Scarily, the gaps almost seemed to smile as well…

"Welcome, welcome esteemed guests, honored alumnae! I'm glad you could all come to this joyous arrangement. As you all know, the Mrs. Norris and I've gotten hitched."

"Damn right, I've got an itch," complained Ron. "Standing in this bloody room for the nutty marriage between a lunatic I don't even like and a cat from hell…'_Mione_," he begged, sounding very much pained. "Please, _please_ let's go."

"Not. Yet. Ron!" she said through gritted teeth. "We agreed to come, and so we'll have to stay for the whole thing now. Anyway, we've only just gotten to the reception. You've always said that receptions are the best part anyway."

"I didn't! I would never!" He broke off with an anguished moan.Harry looked as if he'd like to do the same, but was busy concealing his face when the photographers got too close. "_You_ wanted me and Harry, to come!" continued the redhead."_You_ and Ginny. Now we're stuck here, in this pit of –"

Pit of what, exactly, he did not know, for at that moment a previously purring Mrs. Norris rapidly fixed her yellow, glowing eyes on Ron. He stiffened, frightened.

Ron would swear to any member of the Wizengamot that even during the wedding ceremony, Mrs. Filch had made sure to keep one eye on him. He had thought it bad enough to see Draco Malfoy in attendance, but Mrs. Norris watching him as if her were a first yearwas far, far worse.

"Nice, kitty…"

"Now look what you've gone and done, Weasley," spat Draco. "The damned cat will be watching this area for the rest of the reception now."

Draco was already in a sour mood, as he had felt _compelled_ to come to the wedding. So had many others, as probably most of Hogwarts from his seventh-year was in the enormous ballroom; and there were no misconceptions that anyone standing around on aching feet had come because of goodwill and cheer.

Few people would refuse an invitation to a wedding – especially if printed at the bottom in elegant calligraphy was the message: _'Absence means death'_. Draco sniffed. Apparently Filch was hitting at the catnip again.

Mrs. Norris looked at each of them in turn as if to say, 'You'd be good, you filthy humans; you'd better be good, or else…' Her orbs held a promise of pain. Just as quickly, they flashed away to admire her loving spouse and the other guests. Occassionally her eyes flickered back to the troublesome bunch. The constant back and forth made her bulbous, yellow eyes appear rather twitchy. In the back of Lee Jordan's mind, he thought it was almost romantic, and he voiced his opinion.

"Now both Norris and Filch have twitchy eyes."

Fred, George and Ron guffawed while Harry just looked sick.

"All Mrs. Norris needs now is one eye bigger than the other…with a few kicks, I'm sure I could solve that," said Fred with glee. Ron gesticulated how they would go about pummeling 'the vicious fur ball' as George began to think.

"Big eyes…twitching…" George mused. His eyes lit up. "Hey! We could make a killing off that!" he exclaimed.

Ron snickered evilly. "Well obviously. You'd be killing the cat."

"And if anyone asked us what happened," added Harry, "we could just say it was Curiosity!"

Hermione and Ginny groaned. Ron slapped Harry on the back for his brilliance.

"And I could just call you stupid," Draco commented, rolling his eyes.

Ginny grinned a little. "You do that anyway." He shrugged in response.

"No, no," said George emphatically, shaking his head. "That's not what I mean."

"I think I've caught your drift, Gred," said Fred with a smile. "Twitchy Tasters!"

"Precisely, Forge! And Bug-Eyed Bon-Bons! And Filching Fruties!" the twins looked at each other in their shared moment of genius and simultaneously pulled out small pads of parchment from their robe pockets and mini-Sugar Quills. They began to scribble furiously.

"How many times have I told you not to bring those along!" Angelina remonstrated crossing her arms and tapping her foot at Fred.

"I've told this one here the same thing," added Katie, patting her friend on the shoulder. "But I've begun to tolerate it."

Angelina slowly nodded in agreement. "The sacrifices we make as the wives of mad-wizards…"

Other than the twins, all tuned back in to their former caretaker's words.

"Mrs. Norris 'n I met years, 'n years, 'n years ago," he rasped, clasping his thick, calloused hands together.

Oh how joyful is the walk down memory lane!

"Way before we ever came to Hogwarts and met all you ungrateful, spiteful, dirty, _vicious_, little maggots!" He heaved with emotion.

The crowd stared in astonishment.

Mrs. Norris put her hand – er, _paw_ on her husbands forearm.

Jerkily turning his head, Filch looked at his wife. "Right. Thank you Mrs. Norris. Anyway, her previous husband had just croaked –"

"Meow!"

"Right. Sorry, Sweetcheeks," Filch corrected. Draco looked quite sick. "The bloke passed, leaving my Mrs. Norris all alone. Well, there was nothin' to do but for me to take her with me to Hogwarts – y'see, Dumbledore'd recently hired me…"

"A crime beyond any my father ever committed," muttered Draco. Ron nodded.

"…I was gentle with her, at first – she was in mourning and all. But soon, I saw that she needed comfort – I didn't want to come on too strong. We became closer and…"

"God, forget the muggle queen – save me!" cried Ron.

"Ron…" Hermione warned needlessly. For the evil eye of Mrs. Norris was again upon him. Only after a full minute did she look away.

"I'll be missing you, mate," said Harry sadly.

"Don't worry about me," Ron said, straightening up. "I'm a man! And that thing is not. I'm not even quite sure what it is…The point is; I can stand up to something that isn't even three feet tall."

"Are you sure about that?" asked Ginny.

Draco looked on, mildly interested. "Didn't you have some kind of altercation with a house-elf at the end of Seventh Year?"

Ron's ears went red.

Hermione crossed her arms. "Yes, he did. And no matter how much he tells me to stick up for him, I won't."

"I didn't hear about this, little brother," George said, looking hurt.

Fred put his arm around his twin. "Neither did I. You see, when the wee lad left the safety of Mum's bosom, he went on his little adventures with our Mr. Potter."

"There were terrible trolls –"

"Man-eating Acromantulas –"

"Fire-breathing bushy-haired girlfriends – Sorry, Hermione," said George when Hermione glared at him.

"And he never once-"

"Not _once_!"

"Thought to write home and tell us-"

"That he was still alive."

Ron looked contrite. "If I had known that you cared –"

"I mean imagine our _disappointment_," Fred continued, "when we found out that the bugger wasn't beaten into a bloody pulp by a seven-year-old house-elf."

"Just suffering a mild case of bruised shin," finished George.

The twins hung their heads low.

"Oh, shut up!" Ron grumbled.

"Do they always make fun of Weasley…er, Weasley?" Draco asked Ginny aside, gesturing at the twins.

"It's Ginny. And yes they do."

Draco looked at them with newfound respect. "I think I can tolerate them. Ginny."

"…So now, I'd like to propose a toast to my wife, Mrs. Argus Filch-Norris. May we spend nine lives together, and many more."

Filch touched his champagne flute to the cat's lips and the entire party saw a tiny, feline tongue dart out into the frothy depths. Mrs. Filch-Norris then pushed her bowl forward and Filch licked the surface.

"Is this a joke?" Harry asked incredulously.

Harry risked a glance at Hermione and Ginny and saw that the bushy-haired woman's eyes had the slightest hint of being wet. He knew that she had a soft spot for weddings, but this wasn't a wedding. It was just wrong.

"Oh, come on, Hermione," he said. "Don't tell me that you're actually touched by this."

"I won't, then!" Hermione said, getting out a handkerchief. "But the toast was very sweet." She raised her glass and elbowed Ron to follow suit. But the man only shrugged and held the flute upside down.

"I'm all out."

Looking at Harry, and all of the other men around her, Hermione noticed that all of their flutes were empty as well. She rolled her eyes. Harry inspected Ginny for traces of wetness around the eyes, but Ginny quickly downed her glass and looked straight at Harry.

"No tears here." The bespectacled man beamed.

"You never said anything about Aberford Dumbledore when there was that rumor about him and the sheep," Hermione said scathingly to Harry.

"I _respect_ Aberforth and Albus Dumbledore," Harry explained. "And besides, I think it was Aberforth and a goat. I'm not sure what to think of Argus Filch." He shuddered.

"Scared, Potter?" asked Draco, smirking.

Harry couldn't help but return, "You wish."

"Frankly, the man makes me as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs," quipped Ginny. "I can't tell you how many times I was around the castle at night – it wasn't even curfew yet – and I saw him stalking about, trying to give me detention for breathing."

Ron nodded. "And how he used to say that he wanted to hang us from shackles in the dungeons."

"Or use us for Potions ingreedients," Harry said.

"What about tearing off our toenails and making them into shavings?" asked Lee. "That one always disturbed me... One thing about Filch is that he's got a rather colorful imagination..."

"Too true," said George. "But I don't think he'd liked it when you told him there was also more than one way to skin a cat."

Lee blinked. "That was you."

"_Ahh_," George sighed in remembrance. "It _was_ me, wasn't it?"

Draco snorted. "You people and your misplaced fetishes."

Ginny poked him in the arm. "But there's truth behind all these horrid stories; Filch went madder than Madam Pince catching people eating in the library."

Lee Jordan poked in curiously. "It is true that when Neville smudged the pages of a book she threatened to cut off his fingers with a blunted Potent Papercut Hex?"

This time there was a collective shudder.

"So now we cut the cake of our union," said Filch, beaming.

He took a rather large looking knife (the people closest to him backed up, but one could see Luna Lovegood watching avidly) and let his arm fall over the wedding cake twice. He lay a slice on a plate for Mrs. Filch-Norris, and put his hands out in a gesture of welcome for her to come to it.

"Finally something important," breathed Ron, itching to get a piece of cake.

Mrs. Filch-Norris trotted up to the cake as if she were a well-bred, prize filly, and not a mangy cat that most people wished to give a swift kick. She came to the edge of the cake, sniffed it a bit, and took a bite. Her face came away with a bit of fluffy cream on it and Filch released a terrifying smile and ordered the photographer, Colin Creevey to take a picture.

"Do it now, boy!"

Colin hastened toward the cat with as much dignity and Gryffindor courage as he could summon up and snapped a few photographs.

Mrs. Filch-Norris purred contentedly and seemingly merged with the grumbling of Ron's stomach.

"That cat's had enough of the cream! Share the wealth!"

Rapidly, though, Ron realized that he wanted no part of the cake that was before the audience.

With a strangled noise, Mrs. Norris's eyes protruded unbelievably as she seized up and keeled over.

"Oh my," Hermione whispered in the suddenly silent room.

Well, silent but for the sound of Colin's camera clicking madly as the twins egged him on to make more pictures.

"Those are priceless!" they rejoiced.

Within moments, Filch was at the cat's side, whispering frantically for her to wake up.

"Just Enervate her or something so we can get this on with," Draco said, annoyed.

"How much is left of the reception anyway?" Harry asked.

Ginny looked at her watch and then thought for a second. "The invitation said the reception would be over by four – it's only half-past-three yet, but I get the feeling that the party's over."

"PARTY'S OVER! PARTY'S OVER!" shouted Ron through the hall, as if there were noise preventing him from being heard. It was still silent though, as the crowd was still in thrall of the dead-looking animal on the floor.

Hermione glared at Ron. "Was that really necessary?"

He stood tall. "What? I'm _starving_. Besides, staying any longer is as pointless as a cat chasing its tail."

"Enough with the cat jokes, Ron!" Ginny ordered.

"Right!" Hermione agreed walking away from Ron, toward the exit.

"Hermione's just sore because Crookshanks is just as ugly as Mrs. Norris is," he confided to Lee.

"I heard that!" Hermione said, walking away even faster.

Behind Hermione, Draco walked companionably beside Ginny, neither saying anything. They looked at each other and couldn't help but grin. Ginny began to speak, but she was pushed roughly aside due to the reception crowd's zealousness to get out as quickly as possible.

After the rush, Ginny and Draco settled for walking near the stragglers, who weren't as aggressive.

"So, Weasley," Draco began.

"Call me _Ginny_."

He smirked. "I'll have to get used to that."

Ginny smiled back. "I've got plenty of time."

"You're kind of cute now, Weasley," Draco said appraisingly.

Her eyebrow rose. "You're not too shabby yourself, Ferret. But try a better line than that."

Draco laughed a little. "Fine. You're beautiful. You're funny. You make fun of your own brothers. And I've discovered that in only one day. I want to know what else I can dig up about you."

Ginny nodded, putting on the air of thinking about it. "Better, better."

There was a moment of silence.

"What would you say to dinner tonight, at Moonlight Mayhem?"

The petite redhead's brow rose once more. "Classy."

At just that moment, Ron jostled his way from behind Ginny through the now dissipating crowd. Evidently, he had heard.

"She'd say 'No thanks'," said Ron, incensed. "Go marry a skrewt or something, Malfoy."

Ginny reddened. "_I_ would say thank you to get out of it, Ron!" she fumed. She turned to Draco and smiled, "I'd love to."

He smiled, but it was a bit wary. "And this isn't just for revenge on Weasel King, right?"

The two ignored Ron's protests of "I'm standing right here, thanks!" and continued to look at each other.

"Of course not," Ginny reassured.

"Good," said Draco efficiently. "I'll pick you up at your flat at seven." He grinned at her and was gone with a _pop!_ Ginny smiled as his portkey activated, still ignoring her brother.

Ron was about to take Ginny by the arm, when a very irritated and irked Hermione held his own arm. She was trailed closely by Harry who -- by all appearances-- seemed to be listening to Luna Lovegood go on about the "magnificent wedding."

"It was lovely! Caretaker Filch and Mrs. Norris make an admirable couple." Harry unsuccessfully tried to remove the image of Filch shaking a dead-looking Mrs. Norris in chocolate and treacle cream cake from his mind. "It was almost better than when Daddy and I found Porktailed Chipperwungs. Except not."

She babbled on, but gave Hermione a wide-eyed look, daring her to say that Porktailed Chipperwungs were not real.

Hermione clenched her teeth, and forced herself to speak to Ron.

"Where's Ginny going?"

The frustrated redhead threw his arms to the heavens. "Ah, I don't know!" he despaired. "But at seven she'll be with Malfoy at Moonlight Mayhem."

Hermione pulled Ron's arms down and clutched them excitedly. "Ooh! Midnight Mayhem! How classy!" She went after Ginny.

Despite the name of the restaurant on High Street in Hogsmeade, it was as Ginny said, classy – posh as well, but expensive.

Ron stalked after Hermione. "Does no one care!"

"No!" said Fred and George, before their own portkey whisked them away to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes Headquarters, also known as Fred's house when Headquarters wasn't George's house.

Angelina and Katie huddled next to their respective husbands; Angelina hitting Fred upside the head.

"Put the parchment away, or you'll splinch yourself!"

Katie only had to give George a warning glare, and he acquiesced immediately – 'I'm becoming tame,' he thought sadly.

Eventually, the hubbub died down as the remaining guests trickled away.

All that was left was the uneaten cake, empty champagne flutes, and Filch with poor Mrs. Norris – still looking dead from her cream cake allergy. With tears in his eyes, Filch continued to manically shake his wife.

Hoping against hope that she would return to him Filch nearly did a jig when Mrs. Norris sputtered, coughed up a dark, sticky hairball, and mewed softly, her eye twitching more than ever.

She had lost one life, but there were eight more, she thought. Suddenly a random foot struck her in the eye.

She collapsed once more on the floor, her whole body twitching - the body belonging to the leg was nowhere in sight.

Seconds later, a flushed Fred Weasley hobbled toward his leg, supported by his wife.

"I told you! Didn't I tell you --!"

"Stop hitting me, woman! You needn't be so catty!"

"I'll give you something to whine about! I --!"

She broke off in a wild fit of laughter.

Mrs. Norris now had the big eye her husband and brothers-in-law were keen on.

"Mrs. Norris!" cried Filch.

"Mroooow!" cried Mrs. Filch-Norris.

* * *

Fin

I hope you enjoy that moment of insanity from me as much as I did. Review it and tell me if you did! If you didn't oh well, the damage is done.


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